


keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements

by hopelessgemini



Series: the zyraverse (working title) ~ short unedited drabbles [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Drabble, F/F, again this doesnt really tie into the actual story, but i just wanted to show u them <3, considering the fact that zyra isnt the main character, just some lesbians being lesbians, nor is she the focus of the story, not like theyre in love or anything, uneditied bc we die like lesbians, zyraverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:15:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29452920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopelessgemini/pseuds/hopelessgemini
Summary: title comes from the song everybody's free to wear sunscreen, inspired by a gsce drama devising performance i watched a couple of years ago about a child who tries to reunite an old lesbian couple forced apart in the 50s. although that isn't what the drabble is about.. well, you'll see (consider: i also like the vibe of the quote)
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Zyra/Harper (OC)
Series: the zyraverse (working title) ~ short unedited drabbles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2163108
Comments: 1





	keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements

When Zyra wakes up, there is a warm hand pressed against her forehead, a pair of arms holding her close, a body pressed up against hers. 

_Harper. Harper's here._

She opens an eye, feeling a smile turn up the corners of her mouth. "Why are you here, Harp?"

Harper, beautiful, wonderful Harper, lifts her head from where it's buried between her shoulder blades and grins back. Her hair is dishevelled and sticks to the side of her face, her clothes are rumpled and in disarray, but she's awake, and smiling at Zyra like she put the stars in the sky just for her. "You're awake," she breathes, and _starshine_ -

"I'm awake," she whispers back. "I'm awake."

Harper's eyes are alight from within. She shuffles upright, and her hair falls into her eyes and cascades down her shoulders (it's down now, which is something new; Zyra rarely gets to see her this carefree these days). " You're awake," she echoes breathlessly, and leans down to cradle her face in her hands with no small amount of visible relief. Her touch is... warm, familiar. She sinks into it gratefully. "Zy, I was so worried about you-"

Zyra offers her a small smile, slightly dulled by the pain in her ribs. "Since when does the famous Harper Silverhawk worry about me?"

"Since you started throwing yourself into danger and nearly getting yourself killed." 

She huffs, faking indignance, and heaves herself up on one elbow so Harper's stupid beautiful face is only inches away from her own. "It's an occupational hazard, I'm afraid."

Harper meets her eyes slowly, hand wandering around Zyra's waist to draw patterns on her shoulder (which makes her hold her breath and try not to stiffen in response). Her gaze, normally so warm and bright, has turned dark with concern. "I was worried about you." 

"Aw, you worry about me?" she teases, but it comes out hollow. There was a time not so long ago where she would have killed again to make sure Harper survived the night. _Stars, she must be feeling awful right now..._

"A lot," Harper whispers. "I worry about you a lot, Zy."

Zyra is tempted to smile back, to touch her cheek and tell her not to worry, to tell her that everything will be alright. To brush the last few hours she spent in a haze of pain aside, to invite Harper to forget the fight and the war and that fucking spellbook entirely and just... doze with her in the quiet. And she would, too, were it not for the resigned sorrow in her eyes, the way she's gazing at her like _that_ , like she's on the brink of tears.

So instead she leans into Harper's arms and holds her as tightly as her injury will allow, pulling them both down onto the bed. "I know. I'm sorry."

Harper is silent for a long time. Zyra can almost hear her thinking, pressing her cheek to the top of her head. 

And then, softly, "I love you."

She bites her lip to stop herself from gasping out loud, from making any noise at all. _Fuck. Fuck. Oh my - fuck._ "I-"

"You don't have to say it back," Harper murmurs, and her hand makes its way up to start stroking Zyra's hair in slow, steady arcs. "I just... I wanted you to know that. Especially after today."

Zyra stares at her, feeling her eyes widen. "Harper-" she breathes, but she keeps talking, keeps stroking her hair, as though to deflect, to move past the thing she's wanted to hear since -

She can see it - her reluctance to accept what just happened, what she just did, to face the possibility that Zyra might not love her back, as though she doesn't and she hasn't since the first moment she met her, as if she wouldn't burn down the world to see her safe - 

But Harper doesn't listen to her gentle attempts to talk to her, doesn't let herself accept the idea that she could possibly be loved too, and it makes her heart... ache.

**Author's Note:**

> no, i didn't edit this at all, and i ran out of Good Endings, so you get.... whatever this is. (will come back and fix... maybe)  
> (there will be a continuing chapter! mostly because... gay)


End file.
